


Homecoming

by Elveatas (Ricecake)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M, Humor, Oral Sex, Post-Canon, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 17:51:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17944337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ricecake/pseuds/Elveatas
Summary: There were times when Morgana really missed being an infamous high priestess of the old religion. Not always but… sometimes. Like now, for instance, as she was sat in an uncomfortable chair, bound into a tight corset and forced to pretend she cared much about the latestscandalthat was being discussed by two matrons about a thousand years younger than her who had invited themselves over for tea that afternoon.





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Pornalot 2016, Challenge Two - Rare
> 
> I CAN’T BELIEVE I AM FINALLY FINSHING A FIC AFTER SO LONG!!! The last time I actually finished something was last year for Camelot_remix 
> 
> A huuuuuge thank you goes out to my amazing beta hart_d!!!
> 
> And also to the Chatzy crowd for being so supportive and listening to my constant complaining about writing ;)
> 
> Can also be found on [ffnet](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13220278/1/Homecoming)

“My goodness,” the Lady Fitzherbert said, pressing a dainty hand to her chest where her corset had been pulled so tight her breasts were almost spilling over. “Is it really true?”

“Every word,” the Lady Burke said as if she was sharing a state secret and not simply regaling her two companions with the fact that some younger lady had turned down the hand of a very rich but also very obnoxious lord. “I heard it with my own two ears! She said she’d rather sleep with the pigs than marry him.”

Morgana helped herself to one of the biscuits that had been placed on the small tea table in front of her so that she wouldn’t be expected to comment.

There were times when she really missed being an infamous high priestess of the old religion. Not always but… sometimes. Like now, for instance, as she was sat in an uncomfortable chair, bound into a tight corset and forced to pretend she cared much about the latest _scandal_ that was being discussed by two matrons about a thousand years younger than her who had invited themselves over for tea that afternoon. It wasn’t that she hated them per se, it was just that she disliked their company rather a lot. She wondered what they’d say if they knew that both Morgana and her husband had been born out of wedlock; that her husband’s mother had been a poor farmer, and she the illegitimate child of a genocidal king.

Given women’s status these days, she couldn’t quite begrudge them their sole form of entertainment aside from embroidery, even as she hated the fact that they’d thrown themselves all over her of all people. Taken her under their wings so to say, this young, beautiful lady who was unfortunate enough to be married to a husband who was rarely home. In fact, it had been three years since the last time Morgana had seen her husband in the flesh. Given their history and immortality, it wasn’t actually that long, though. Once, a hundred years had passed where they hadn’t seen each other, but the matrons didn’t know that and were more than eager to shower her with unnecessary pity.

Pity that had unfortunately only increased when they’d learned she was barren and had thus been robbed of a woman’s greatest triumph. Oh, if only they _knew_ who they were sitting in front of and how powerful Morgana was. She didn’t know what they would do, but she was sure it would be hilarious.

But alas, when the magic community had decided to hide itself from common man, she and her husband had agreed to stay hidden with it, and as much as she wanted to put her powers on display, she much preferred the peace and quiet of her current life. Instead she contented herself with slightly tightening the matrons’ corsets a little bit at a time when they were too busy being outraged about what some other young lady had done, and wouldn’t notice the gold of her eyes.

One of the maids sent her a sly look as she refilled Morgana’s tea. She’d noticed, and she was doing her very best not to laugh. Morgana winked at her, reaching for the newly filled teacup to take a careful sip when a sudden, familiar tingle at the back of her mind made her stiffen in her seat.

“That _bastard_ ,” she cursed, startling the two matrons whose eyes widened with outrage.

“Lady Emrys—” one of them protested but was interrupted when Morgana slammed her teacup down on the table.

“Not you,” Morgana bit out before she stood up and hurried through the house as fast as she could in this ridiculous dress that was apparently meant to keep women on a leash.

The household staff, having heard the commotion, poked their heads out from different doorways to see what was going on. Several of them seemed to have guessed because excited whispering broke out among them. They too must have felt his presence.

He was in the middle of getting off his horse when she threw the massive front doors open.

“I don’t believe you!” she yelled, gathering her skirts in her hands to ease her way down the steps. “You _deliberately_ didn’t tell me you were coming home! You fucking _prick_!”

Merlin laughed as he handed the reins of his horse over to their stable master who looked like he was trying his best not to be too open about his amusement. “I missed you too, Morgana,” he said in the same good-natured way he always did.

“Shut up,” she sneered and pulled him into a long and not very chaste kiss that hopefully conveyed how dismayed she was with him. And maybe also how much she had missed him. The tips of his fingers tangling through her hair and gliding over her face told her he probably guessed.

In the distance, the distinct sound of their household staff finally losing it could be heard over the outraged mutterings of the matrons who had _never_ heard such foul language from a lady before.

“Why didn’t you say you were coming home already?” Morgana demanded to know when she finally let go of him. “We scried just recently.”

“Honestly, I thought you would have predicted my homecoming in a dream,” he said, shrugging apologetically. “But I suppose I was also hoping to surprise you.” His lips stretched into a wide, delighted grin. “I found your brother.”

Morgana gasped. “You didn’t!”

“I did,” Merlin said. “In America. Gwen will probably be there too, which admittedly worries me given the darker colour of her skin.”

Morgana closed her eyes, giving herself a moment to let the notion that her brother was alive again settle in. She’d almost forgotten how long it had been. A hundred years at least, if not more.

She looked back up at Merlin who still looked far too pleased with himself. “I don’t suppose you’re up for accompanying me to America in a few weeks?” he asked.

She snorted. “Of course I am. But let’s talk about that later.” She grabbed the lapels of his coat, tugging impatiently. “We have some catching up to do.”

Merlin lifted his hat at the two matrons as Morgana dragged him past them, giving them a goofy smile. “Ladies,” he said at their stunned expressions.

Their butler took his hat and coat once they were up the steps and inside while a maid hurried to get the matrons’ belongings and send them on their way with a muttered apology she didn’t seem to mean.

Then the entire staff dispersed. They knew not to be around when the lord of the house had just returned home.

The door into the master bedroom had barely closed behind them before Merlin pushed Morgana up against it, face first, his clever fingers going to untie the laces of her corset with practiced swiftness.

“Fuck, Morgana,” he muttered, hot breath fanning over her neck and sending shivers of desire down her back. “I’ve thought about this the entire way home.” He pressed a hungry kiss to her bared shoulder. “About finally having you again.” He pulled off her corset, dropping it on the floor before pressing his chest against her back so she could feel his hardness against her clothed arse. “About being inside you. Scrying is a very poor substitute for what I want to do to you.”

“If you had informed me you were coming home I could have already been naked and waiting,” she told him, arching her back to rub herself against his hardness playfully.

“Now where’s the fun in that? I like undressing you,” he said, ridding her of her clothes with a force that caused several of the seams in her dress to rip.

“I’ll have you know that that dress cost a fortune.” She pushed him back enough so she could turn around to level him with a daring look.

“What a shame,” he said like he didn’t mean it at all, his eyes roving over her naked form as she stepped out of the ruined dress that had pooled around her feet.

“You’ll have to make up for it.”

“Will I?”

“Yeah.” She gripped his broad shoulders and forced him to his knees. “You will.”

“Well, then.” He chuckled, reaching forward to grab her buttocks, compelling her to spread her legs slightly, just enough for him to lean forward and touch her clit with the tip of his tongue.

She sighed, giving herself up to the feeling of wet heat between her legs as his tongue lapped at her clit, between her folds, and dipping inside of her in a rhythm only he knew. Her toes curled with pleasure and she had to fight not to clamp her thighs around him, her hands desperately searching for something to hold on to. One settled in his soft hair and the other found purchase on the doorframe.

“So what do you say,” he said later, when she shuddered to a close, her legs trembling and threatening to give out under her. “Does that make up for the dress?”

“Yes,” she said, breathless, leaning up against the wall behind her to support herself. “It doesn’t make up for your absence though.”

“Guess I’ll have to work on that.” He grinned as he stood back up, wiping his mouth before drawing her into a kiss that tasted of her own slick, his lips hot and wanting against her own.

She clawed at his clothes while never breaking the kiss, hands reaching down to undo his trousers and set him free. And then it was so easy for him to hoist her up against the wall, guiding himself inside of her, her thighs wrapping around his waist while her arms went around his shoulders to hold on for dear life as he thrust into her.

Fuck, how she’d missed him.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are much appreciated :)
> 
> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://elveatas.tumblr.com/)  
> On Pillowfort [here](https://www.pillowfort.io/elveatas/)  
> And on Livejournal [here](http://elveatas.livejournal.com/)


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